Over the past two months, my grandmother’s extended family has been calling me repeatedly, asking me to take care of the elderly lady.

My grandmother was quite a difficult person, downright unpleasant in many ways.

My parents split up when I was very youngI barely remember my father at all. Mum and I moved in with my grandmother when I was five, and she looked after me throughout my early childhood.

As a person, my grandmother was hard to deal with. Her main demands were that I obey her and work hard. I honestly can’t recall a single kind memory with her.

While others reflect on their childhood with regret, I don’t care to remember mine at all. There’s nothing for me to reminisce about. Mum never really helped me, and there was nowhere for me to escape tothose were the tough times of the nineties. All I could do was dream about money and work. I had to make peace with that. Grandmother insisted that both Mum and I lived by her rules, making sure everything was precisely how she wanted.

So that’s how we lived. Of course, in public, we’d put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine.

Things changed when I was in Year 5. Mum’s personal life took a turn for the better; she met a man who invited her to live with him. A year later, Mum brought me along too. My stepfather wasn’t enthusiastic about me, but he never treated me badly. Compared to living with my grandmother, which felt like constant conflict, life with Mum and my stepdad felt almost like heaven.

My grandmother disapproved of Mum’s new relationship, but Mum simply seized the chance to finally live apart from our household tyrant. They stopped talking altogether from that point on.

I ring my grandmother from time to time.

I call her every month, but I need to psyche myself up for it each time. Our conversations are brief, chatting about trivial things just to avoid any negativity. I stick to good news, for the most part, exchanging a few polite phrases and messages. Twice a year, around her birthday and at Christmas, I make a visit with flowers and a cake. I’m never there for more than half an hour. That’s the sum of our contact these days.

Life is going well for me nowI have a loving husband, a young child, and a close family. Recently, my husband and I decided to buy a flat in another city on a mortgage. Last year, my grandmother turned eighty.

She used to be sprightly, handling everything around the house herself, but lately, things have declined.

Now she keeps to herself, unable even to step outside, let alone cook a meal. Most days she lies down, though she can still shuffle around inside. Recently, she’s fallen ill, and her neighbours have had to step in to help. It’s clear she needs care.

Grandmother has quite a few distant relatives who now ring me endlessly, full of reproach! They can’t reach Mumshe and her husband live overseasso they believe it’s wholly my responsibility.

But I know what kind of nightmare it would be. Yes, she raised me, cared for me, taught me. In one sense, perhaps it’s my turn to repay her. Yet I don’t want to. She never showed me love in all my childhood. While I’ve let go of bitterness over her behaviour towards me, forgiveness still eludes me. Still, the guilt nags at me, I realise I ought to help the elderly woman.

Finding a carer would be ideal, but I simply can’t afford it. I have a child, a mortgage, and my son is often poorly.

What should I do?

Is a granddaughter truly obliged to care for her elderly grandmother, or does she have the right to refuseespecially if she’s not seeking any inheritance? She wants neither a grandmother like this nor her legacy.

If there’s anything I’ve learnt, it’s that we carry our burdens whether we want to or not, but sometimes, it’s alright to put ourselves and our own family first. Life doesn’t always offer simple answers, but we shouldn’t feel forced into guilt by others’ expectations.